


In Which We Discuss Arrogant Boyfriends, Conjure Constellations and McGonagall Knows All

by postjentacular



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1000 words, F/M, History Repeating Itself, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Metaphors, Secret Relationships, Sirius refers to his fine naked derriere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 00:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7460334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postjentacular/pseuds/postjentacular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minerva McGonagall has never met a Gryffindor secret she didn't already know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which We Discuss Arrogant Boyfriends, Conjure Constellations and McGonagall Knows All

Dumbledore paused briefly and caught McGonagall’s eye as Order members slowly filtered out of Grimmauld Place’s kitchen. She held back knowing he didn’t want an audience, “Minerva, how’s our potential new recruit coming along?” he asked, his voice low and quick.

“As expected Albus,” her tone reflecting his own, “you’ll be the first to know when something changes.”

“Does Severus know?”

She shook her head sharply at the futility of his question, “That man wouldn’t recognise-”

“Very well, Minerva,” he didn’t let her finish as he swept out the door, robes swishing behind him.

She leaned on the back of the wooden dining chair, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Cup of tea?” The gentle voice from the far end of the kitchen brought her back to reality.

“That would be lovely, Remus,” she smiled and moved to take a seat in one of the two comfortably battered armchairs by the fireplace. He finished rolling up the parchments from the meeting and busied himself making tea the muggle way. He found a tin of shortbread in the cupboard behind a wall of saucers; with a quick sniff he determined they were still fine and probably only at the back of a dusty cupboard to keep them from being pilfered by any number of ginger teenagers.

“You look tired,” he noted as he sat down opposite her and handed her a steaming cup of tea.

She nodded in partial agreement, “Twenty years and nothing has changed. Oh, there are new faces, but it’s all the same stories. Out here we’re hiding in the shadows fighting a war we thought we’d already won, back at Hogwarts, well,” she paused, “history repeats itself. Poltergeists wreaking havoc, Quiddich rivalries, more effort being put into pranking Severus than homework, although,” she added conspiratorially, “it’s considerably more difficult to look the other way when the Weasley twins insist on putting their names all over it. I remember when no one would admit to jinxing all of his textbooks so they only read in Ancient Greek.” Remus let a little smile slip at the memory. ”Love potions going wrong, students hexing each other tit-for-tat just to get out of Binns’ classes, the cleverest Gryffindor thinking that it’s possible to keep an extremely arrogant boyfriend hidden-”

“Moony,” an irritated and disembodied shout interrupted from the fireplace, “hurry up and get your bloody hairy arse into bed; this fine, naked derrière won’t ravish itself.”

“Good Evening, Mister Black.”

Sirius’ head in the fireplace turned to meet McGonagall’s steely gaze. Suddenly, he became that fifteen year old trying to apologise his way out of yet another detention, “Minnie Mac- sorry- Professor- I didn’t realise Remus had- but you see it’s not really my fault when you think about it-” and the head in the flames disappeared with a barely audible pop.

Remus sunk lower in his chair trying to hide the embarrassment evident in his cheeks, “Extremely arrogant boyfriends? I have no idea what you could possibly mean, Professor.”

* * *

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was silent, most of its residents asleep, as Hermione stared up at the night sky she'd conjured across the ceiling of the drawing room. The constellations twinkled as they slowly floated across the midnight blue background. “Impressive,” Lupin’s quiet compliment broke Hermione from her reverie, “I’ve not seen a sky so realistic since the late night feasts in the Great Hall.” He leaned, relaxed, against the door frame, hands in his pockets.

“Sorry, Professor, I thought everyone was asleep,” she reached for her wand to end the charm.

“No, leave it,” she left her wand on the arm of the sofa next to her, “and Hermione, how many times do I have to tell you, I’m not a professor any more, it’s just Remus.” He crossed the room to sit in the armchair by the now-extinguished fire and looked up, taking in the enormity of the galaxy. “I don’t get much sleep at this time of the month,” he explained, “waxing gibbous.”

“When I can’t sleep at school I sneak up to the Astronomy Tower to look at the stars, but you can’t see the stars here in London, too much light pollution, so this,” she gestured to the ceiling, “is the next best thing.”

They sat and watched the stars slowly move across the night sky for several minutes before either of them spoke again, “You miss him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Who- What- I don’t-,” she flustered, it wasn’t often Hermione was lost for words.

“One of your constellations is brighter than it should be,” he nodded at the fourteen stars twinkling a little more intensely than all their neighbours and she felt a blush creep over her cheeks. “Dragons don’t usually shine so vividly; this one here,” he flicked his wand towards the star at the heart of _Canis Major_ “should be the brightest.”

“Factually, yes,” she agreed, finding her words again, “but I don’t think he needs the encouragement.”

Remus chuckled low in his throat, “You’re right about that, but then again, neither does yours.”

“Mine?” she feigned innocence at his knowing smile.

“Hypothetically,” Remus began, “should you find yourself with an extremely arrogant, astrally-named boyfriend who, for reasons best known to yourselves, you feel the need to hide from your friends and families, just know you don’t have to. Sure, his family might hate you for corrupting their first born and sullying their pure bloodline; your friends might think he’s a haughty, conceited, obnoxious brat who is eventually going to break your heart, but if he can win round your logical brain and your stubborn heart, then getting your friends on side will be a cakewalk compared to that.”

“Hypothetically,” she confirmed.

“Hypothetically,” Remus agreed as he got up to leave. “Hermione, you may well be the smartest witch of your age, but there are two things you won’t learn from books. One: history repeats itself and,” she leaned forward, intrigued, “two: no one can keep a secret from McGonagall.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Standard fanfic disclaimer:** If you recognise it, it belongs to J.K. Rowling; this is just fanfic for nothing other than entertainment purposes.


End file.
